The first time the Angel tried to press the coal to my lips he just dropped it. They’re Angels with Six Wings, and it’s just not easy for them to carry about earthly things like you and I do.

The second time he got feathers in my mouth. “PTOOOEY! What is this shit?” I exclaimed, and ruined it. It was technically the first time I had swore . . .

The third time it occurred to me that is was going to hurt, and why does God want to make you hurt? The mood has to be right to do it. You can’t just get burned and zip you’re a prophet like that. It has to be right and you have to be in the right frame of mind.

. . . I don’t know if you get any more than three chances.

So, I went and got a job at a Denny’s near the Freeway.

4.

If you’ve ever seen a Denny’s get slammed at night, standing on my feet all night and washing dishes and pulling bus-tubs and taunting my best friend’s ex-girlfriend by making her cry – talking about Greg all the time and he was dead only he wasn’t – just hiding from a dealer he owed – so not really but I was bored and she wouldn’t fuck me so fuck her. Anyway – the bar crowd – a couple of buses – truck drivers and then it becomes a mini-singles scene and all of that means – dishes – coffee cups – with and without vomit or napkins or french-fries in them – plates – bowls – monkey dishes – spoons and knives and forks – steak knives – and a million discarded orange slices – parsley sprigs – blots of white gravy and brown – half eaten chicken fried steak – water-logged hash-browns – phone numbers for waitresses – written on all manner of paper-scraps and cards – discarded bindles for speed and coke – cigarette packs – syrup and creamer kettles – sticky or milky-greasy in turns – dollops of creamed butter or margarine and soppy flaps of the triangular toast – except the sourdough – which was always round – a hamburger or cheeseburger discarded would always piss me off because I could not always afford to buy one – so why would you take two bites and throw it away? – your wasted food is a taunt – an insult concentrated and dissolved in hot water and dishwasher chemicals – definitely alkaline – you throw it up throw it away – pinch the waitresses’ asses while she hauls it away – and someone who hates you will haul it away again – and rinse it off – and put it in trays – and run it through a dishwasher – in the back where you can’t see – and recycle it – for the next asshole not to appreciate – even worse is the overly appreciative person – going out of their way to interact and actually “thank you for the job you do” – and maybe they even – peel me off a dollar – but it just reminds me that I’m just a dishwasher – and I get a dishwasher’s share – I never forget – that I am washing and busing for dopers and truckers and meth-heads and the odd serial killer and other lone-travelers – while I needed to be resting for the big things that happen during the day – and you can bet your ass the Second Coming will happen during the day – I could be left behind and the Denny’s will still be open – because the closers will need cups of joe and pancakes – they need me to stay late in the morning with the graveyard crew – but the dayshi(f)t crew went to heaven with Jesus – “we’ll let you pick who but someone needs to stay and we can do inventory and G.I. the kitchen while we’re at it – clean out the fryers and soak the hood screens and polish the stainless – and what did you think salvation was for you too? – there’s too much work to do – get saved on your own time – pay your shitty rent to your shitty apartment – and live your own shitty life on your own shitty dime – Jesus don’t have time for you – and there’s too many grand-slams to be served – too many Angels passing through and” – fuck you Brad! You’re just a Denny’s Manager, you can’t serve the Lord’s plan – Fuckin’ Brad – I’ll Make You Speak!

‘I find it oppressive when youdon’t talk to me, I mean, 20
miles and you’ve barely said
a word to me, it’s uncomfortable’
she tells me, driving to work,
it’s just 07:30, my medication
hasn’t yet kicked in and
smoked just one joint anddrank one cup of tea and
talking bullshit small talk
isn’t my kick anyways but
at this hour it’s way beyond
my interest or energy, even
from the one closest to me
in this world:
‘What shall I talk about?’
I ask her:
‘I don’t know, something’
she replies:
‘Did you know that the
Ostrich is the only bird
that shits and pisses
separately’ I said:
‘Fuck-me!’ she screamed,
shaking her head and
welcoming the silence
that followed.

THE PUNCHES

I’ve thrown punches all my life,
at parents, schools and colleges,
employers, friends and lovers,
rules and regulations
which didn’t make for a good
soldier:
I’ve thrown punches at the sky,
into water and punched straight
through them,
causing no damage, no sign of
hurt, a shift of pattern upon
the water’s surface, a broken
rhythm but nothing more,
a natural reaction to an
incoming force that becomes
that surge without
resistance,
honest self-expression,
taking it’s shape
as it happens.